


frexting

by nagitori (chasu)



Series: FWBverse [2]
Category: Free!
Genre: Alternative Perspective, Drabble, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Sexual Fantasy, not very explicit and mostly about feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-19
Updated: 2015-11-19
Packaged: 2018-05-02 09:18:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5242916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chasu/pseuds/nagitori
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He is a <i>bad friend</i>.</p><p>A bad friend who needs to take a <i>cold shower</i>.</p><p><i>Immediately</i>.</p><p>(nagisa gets an interesting text message. alternate pov for part of chapter 8 of <i>like lovers do</i>.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	frexting

   Nagisa’s alarm clock reads six forty two in the morning when his phone gives that impatient  _bzz-bzz_  from where it’s situated underneath his pillow, and he fumbles for it before he even opens his eyes, his fingers brushing against cold plastic between sleep- and sun-warmed sheets. 

   When he does open his eyes, he sees the time and the sunrise and he scrolls through his mental list of contacts and scenarios, phone still clutched in his hand; he thinks of Gou-kun the morning after a sleepover, up too early and wanting to chat, or Rei-chan trying to convince him once again to try his /disgusting/ kale smoothie recipe, or Mako-chan, woken at the crack of dawn by his siblings and asking if Nagisa wants to come to the park with them or something, maybe not quite realising how early it is.

   He smiles against his pillow, face still half-buried in it, and flips open his phone.

From: Ai-chan♥♥♥  
Message: Attachment

   For a moment, Nagisa can only be relieved that he doesn’t have to focus enough to read any small text when he hits  _open_.

   He sees skin.

   After that, it’s not a struggle to get his eyes to focus at all. He drinks the image in with little effort – it’s not as dirty as it initially looked, when Nagisa had blearily mistaken black shorts for boxers, but it’s also not disappointing at  _all_. It looks like Ai is going for a run, and he can see hints of the dorm room in the background. He can’t see much of Ai’s upper body; he can tell from the angle the camera is being held at that Ai is aiming it directly at the running shorts he’s wearing. Neon blue on black, and he’s turned half away from the camera so that Nagisa has basically no choice but to notice his almost-bare thighs and the fact he’s wearing knee socks.  _Knee socks_. Nagisa is blinking, trying to comprehend that, trying not to absolutely die at the peek of sun-kissed skin between those socks and those shorts.

   He doesn’t know what it is about this picture that throws him. He’s seen Ai in less and tighter fabric than this before; Ai and about a zillion other boys. But back then Nagisa hadn’t ogled, hadn’t really noticed anything in particular because they had important business to attend to, like competing, but–

   But.

   Nagisa is alone now, with no distractions other than the birds chirping outside and the sound of one of his sisters abusing the blender downstairs. Just him, clean sheets, the hazy pink morning and this picture open on his phone. He rolls onto his other side, facing away from the door and curling up like it’s a secret he’s holding tightly in his hands.

   This time, Ai wants him to look.

   So he looks.

   The picture is cut just above Ai’s waist, making sure Nagisa’s gaze zeroes right in on his strong, defined-but-still-petite thighs, leading up to that  _butt_  of his. And Nagisa has seen it all before, in the locker room, when Ai had stumbled and almost toppled right over from that  _slight nudge_  – which, by the way, was totally an accident and not at all on purpose –  and flashed Nagisa for all of about a second and a half. He hadn’t seen anything, really, except a blur of creamy skin and Ai’s aura of abject humiliation. But that, compared with these running shorts that cling in all the right places and leave very little to the imagination, gives enough of a complete picture that Nagisa has to bite his lip.

   He is a  _bad friend_.

   A bad friend who needs to take a  _cold shower_.

    _Immediately_.

   Nagisa squirms. He’s never been sent a picture like this before, but he knows, logically, that it’s not a  _sex thing_ , like how their makeout sessions aren’t a sex thing, and when Nagisa thinks about those particular makeout sessions when he’s alone and his hand wanders beneath the band of his underwear, that’s not a sex thing either. Ai just wants his opinion on the shorts, probably, but he can’t give it coherently right now because he feels, wow, hot all over when seconds ago he didn’t at all, and his head spins even more with the knowledge that he knows exactly how it feels to have these thighs on either side of his own, sitting atop him, with Ai kissing him, being kissed by him.

   He wants to call, desperately. His thumb hovers over that green button, but he doesn’t press it. Ai is probably gone by now, anyway, probably running laps around Samezuka or something. Nagisa can’t just call him to have an in depth discussion about how  _flawless_  his body is, and how badly Nagisa wants to touch those thighs without any barrier of clothing between them. How is Ai even  _single_  when like, at least twenty guys on Ai’s swim team see this much of him on a regular basis? Why doesn’t he have  _several_ guys calling him with these compliments? 

   Nagisa couldn’t cope with that level of exposure. He’d have some kind of thirst-induced fainting spell within a week. Just kissing Ai makes him dizzy enough at the best of times. But in a good way.

   He feels a little light-headed now, actually, and his heart is beating a mile a minute, his mind racing just as fast. He wouldn’t just touch those thighs, no, he’d kiss them too. Bite them, because Ai likes that sort of thing. (It doesn’t matter that he couldn’t do that  _realistically_  because everyone at practice would see the marks, but then, maybe during the summer…)

   Afterwards, would Ai let him push those thighs apart? A shiver goes down Nagisa’s spine at the thought, and he loses himself in the fantasy so much he doesn’t even really register that he’s kicking off his bed-shorts, shimmying his underwear down one handed because he can’t bare to not be looking at this picture right now.

   He bites his bottom lip again, harder this time. 

   He’s not going to take a cold shower.

 

oOo

  
To: Ai-chan♥♥♥  
Message:  ♥O♥  ♥O♥  ♥O♥  /)///‿///(\  Ｏ(≧▽≦)Ｏ

   Nagisa hits send, snaps his phone closed and thinks, as he drifts off again, that his feedbackis probably an understatement.  

**Author's Note:**

> this was a little experiment in nagisa's pov that has grown on me in the couple of months since i originally posted it on [my writing blog](http://chasuwrites.tumblr.com), so i decided to finally put it up on ao3 as well. inspired by and named after [this](http://https://medium.com/matter/girl-send-me-a-frext-4ae41b9c832b#.becj0vm6w) article.


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